


Exile

by wildflower01



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, implied sauron/witch-king of angmar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18711886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildflower01/pseuds/wildflower01
Summary: After the Siege of Barad-dûr, Mairon tries to recover his strenght, both military and health-wise.Inspired by this comic by Ttrtru on Tumblr :) https://ttrtru.tumblr.com/post/182962398010/oomphhhhh-your-injured-wolf-sauron-3-there-isntI tagged this fic as canon divergence 'cos I'm writing Mairon and the Nine as if they were incarnate beings and not evil entities. Otherwise, the fic wouldn't have much sense. There's also a bit of adult talk at the end, but nothing graphic.I have no beta tester, so all mistakes are my own. Also please note that it's just some unashamed fluff I wrote for my own enjoyment, so it should be read as such ;)





	Exile

There was an ancient fortress in Khand, built many ages ago by a king of old. It stood alone in the desert, since nobody dared to get close to it, let alone cross its gates or even found a city where the fortress was at sight. People said that the fortress was haunted, and that an unnamed evil dwelt beneath its walls.

Although for many years the fortress was indeed just a harmless and empty citadel, lately the inhabitants of Khand weren’t wrong, since after their defeat in the Siege of Barad-dûr, Mairon and the Nine had fled from Mordor to the south-east, and had taken up the old fortress as their new living quarters, until they were powerful enough to return to Mordor and rebuild the Black Tower.

 

It was almost dusk when the Witch-king of Angmar rode back to the fortress. He was in command until Mairon recovered from the wounds of the battle, and so he has been visiting the local leaders to try, by means of persuasion or in some occasions by sheer threat, to gain their loyalty. It was of vital importance to have as many allies -or subjects- as possible for their future return to Mordor.

When he crossed the gates of the fortress, the Witch-king dismounted his horse, and left it to the care of the stableman. Then he went into the keep, and walked along its corridors to the private chambers of Mairon himself. He came across a lounge room and Mairon’s own study without halt, but he stopped in front of the door of the bedchamber, and knocked.

“Come in”, said a voice from inside.

The Witch-king got into the bedchamber, and closing the door beneath him, he bowed his head respectfully.

Mairon was sitting upright on the bed, his hair neatly plaited and his injured hand on top of the quilt. Had been not for the bandages and his unhealthy looks, it would have seemed that he was in a meeting in any of the opulent halls of the Black Tower, such was his bearing. Standing next to the bed was Khamûl, who also bowed his head as greeting.

“Welcome back”, said Mairon. “Any news?”

“Yes, and they’re good news indeed. Although we will have to smooth things over, many of the rulers were keen to join forces with us. As for the others”, he gave a crooked smile, “we will have to be more _persistent_ to sway them.” Then, the Witch-king proceeded to give just a brief account of the meetings he had held, since a more in-depth discussion would be held the following day.

When the Witch-king finished, Mairon nodded and looked at Khamûl.

“Inform the others, and summon them for tomorrow at midday”, he said. “You may leave now”.

“As you command, my lord”. Khamûl bowed to both Mairon and the Witch-king, and left the bedchamber.

As Khamûl closed the door, the Witch-king smiled – an honest smile this time. “You don’t need to pretend now, my lord”, he said. There was a hint of laugh, but also of affection, in his voice.

Mairon, who was still sitting straight, looked at him amusedly. “You may drop the title as well”

The Witch-king sat down in a corner of the bed. “However you want, Mairon”.

Mairon chuckled softly, but he surrendered and lay down on the pillows with a sigh.

“How are you feeling today?”

“I’m too weak still”, said Mairon, and he added. “I had some soup earlier, but the mere sight of most food makes me feel sick”. He sighed.

 “You'll regain your appetite soon”, reassured him the Witch-king, patting his leg, and got up.

He walked towards one of the dressers, and took out some clean bandages and a bottle of ointment. Then he went to an adjacent room, and came back with a basin full of fresh water and a piece of soft cloth, and placed them, along with the other things, on the nightstand. Mairon sat upright again, so he could tend to his wounds.

He took care of his right hand first, where his index finger has been severed and, after helping him to take off the loose shirt he was wearing, he continued with the other wounds that crossed Mairon’s torso and back. When he finished, he helped him again to put on the shirt and to lie back on the bed.

Mairon coughed softly, and looked how the Witch-king, after gathering up what he has been using, got another bottle from the dresser and poured a bit of its content–an oily liquid- into a goblet. He then added water, and offered it to Mairon, who has raised himself up on one elbow. Mairon emptied the goblet in a single gulp, and the Witch-king took the goblet back.

“Fortunately I’m not in so much pain as before”, said Mairon as he sunk into the pillows again. He shifted on the bed, until he made himself comfortable.

“That’s good”. The Witch-king put the goblet on the nightstand, and touched his forehead. “You’re less feverish now too”. He smiled, and bent forward to kiss Mairon briefly on his lips. He sat on the bed again, closer to Mairon this time, and rested his back against the headboard.

Mairon took the Witch-king hand, and played with his fingers.

“How long it has been since we shared a bed?”. There was a playful hint on his tired gaze.

The Witch-king chuckled.”We will sleep together when you feel better”.

Mairon didn’t say anything, but looked fondly at him, and closed his eyes. The Witch-king stayed at his side, still holding hands. Only when Mairon’s breathing evened out, the Witch-king got up carefully as not to wake him, and tucked him in. He picked up the basin with the used bandages and the dirty cloth and, after putting out the oil-lamp which hanged from the wall, he left the chamber.

**Author's Note:**

> Ttrtru has drawn a lovely fanart based on this fic :) You can check it here: https://ttrtru.tumblr.com/post/184740279427/a-fanart-for-sandalwood01-wildflower01s


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